First Day



It was my first day on the job. Some might think it was a little beneath
me, applying as a trainee in a ladies shoe store. I guess I was bored and
needed the money. Of course, having been busted twice in the previous year,
I wasn't exactly eligible to become your basic bank president. Get the
picture? And, after all, I heard it was one of the finest stores of its
type in town. Career's got to get started somewhere.

Training was uneventful. It wasn't even the least bit interesting as I
stood for what seemed like hours listening to the store manager drone on
about the complete line of heels, slippers, pumps, and the rest. It might
have been a complete waste of time had it not been for the fact that,
during the one-on-one training, my manager was an absolute delight to look
at. A complete bitch, perhaps, but gorgeous, know what I mean? And, at
least since the first interview, she never brought up my priors, not that
they were really serious or anything. Anyway, throughout the training, she
kept referring to this "respect" thing and how she expected her salespeople
to do anything that her well-heeled female clientele wished. She referred
to a long history of "servicing" the ladies in the town. About this she was
quite insistent.

So my manager, Miss Bailey, who insisted we refer to her only by that name
and title, demanded the utmost in respect. "Be on time and dressed
appropriately or you're out of here, it's as simple as that," she hissed.
"Now. Any questions? Good. Then get out on the floor and step lively. We
may have guests out there that require our special service."

It was a little embarrassing, being talked down to like that. I'm quite
sure I could find other employment if I had to, but strangely, somehow I
seemed drawn to work in this type of store. Don't ask me why...

Anyway, after the rush to man the floor, there wasn't a soul around and the
hours began to creep in what promised to be a very slow day. I tried to
look busy, straightening the samples, dusting, and arranging the customer's
padded red velvet chairs. Just as I was about to run out of busy work, my
first customer walked through the door. And here I was the only salesperson
on duty...

She was incredibly attractive. In fact, I couldn't help but blush at the
thought of what kind of lady's footwear she might be inclined to inspect. I
guessed her to be in her early thirties. She wasn't very tall but was
blessed with long, silky smooth legs with a classic shapely ass that swayed
seductively under her tight black leather skirt. Her white silk blouse
strained against her voluptuous breasts, her pert nipples clearly visible
and standing proudly through the sheer material. Her hair was sandy and
shoulder-length, with highlights of blonde under the warm store lights. Her
eyes were remarkably clear and unusually blue, contrasted by the bright red
of her lipstick. I couldn't help but notice that her fingernails were
exactly the same color. I found myself idly wondering about the color of
her toes...


"So... you're the new help I've heard about. Well, I trust you won't
disappoint me today,", she stated, firmly catching my gaze and eyeing me
from across the store. "Generally, I don't allow Missy's new trainees to
waste my time, so you've been duly warned." She smiled cruelly at my
obvious discomfort, with eyes that now stared through me with an imperious
and angry glint. Oddly, I noticed how she wasn't looking through me as much
as through my trousers, which now, unfortunately, were straining against
the hard, rising mass of my awakening cock.


"Well, are you going to stand there and gape or shall we get down to the
business of serving me, hmmm? You may start by seating me in my favorite
chair and preparing my feet to try on the new line of heels Missy said had
arrived."


'Preparing her feet?' What did she mean by that, I wondered, as I slowly
walked across the shop and had her lead me to what she called her 'favorite
seat' - the one nearest the back of the store. As it happened, this
particular seat was set apart from the rest and, with the surrounding
displays, was effectively blocked from view by most of the store and the
street. It was also, unfortunately, in direct line of sight of Miss
Bailey's office.


"Hello, Missy," she said, raising her voice and looking into Miss Bailey's
office. "Thought I would come in and inspect your new line. The display
looks quite exciting, though wish I could say the same about your new help.
I certainly hope he comes to life soon. You may be my friend, Missy, but I
don't wish to waste my precious time in here today."


Blushing madly now, not believing she had the nerve to embarrass me in
front of my new employer, I assisted her to her chair and stood lamely in
front of her, my eyes downcast and gazing intently at her legs and her
feet, tightly encased in a pair of black stiletto heels, the shiny toes
bobbing rhythmically and pointing directly toward me.


"Oh, don't worry, Di, I am quite sure he'll do just fine. He seems the type
anyway. And, besides, I thought it appropriate to have you break him in,
anyway. I thought you might enjoy the opportunity,", Miss Bailey said with
a wicked grin from across her desk and through the open door of her office.


What was she talking about? "'Breaking me in"? '? I didn't quite understand
what was going on here but will admit to being a bit mesmerized by this
exchange between the two women. And, I'll admit as well, not just a little
excited...


Easing back into the plush red velvet of the chair, making herself
comfortable and demurely crossing one glorious leg across the other, she
stared at me and said, "My dear boy, your Miss Bailey calls me 'Di'. You,
however, do not. Understand? You are to address me only as Miss Diane. And,
only when you are spoken to. Don't make me repeat myself. Got it?" Waiting
a moment for this order to sink in, she continued. "Now then, do you plan
on standing there looking like a fool, or do you think it might be bright
to get on your knees, hmmm? We're not trying on hats here, you know."


"Yes, ma'am," I mumbled, and began to lower myself slowly onto the little
salesman's seat. You know the one, the little stool with the black ramp to
help try shoes on other people.


Before I even got to a sitting position, she snapped, seemingly
exasperated, "Yes what? What did you call me? What did I just say to you,
hmmm?"


"Sorry," I responded. "I guess I should have said, ''Yes, Miss Diane'. It
won't happen again," I quickly assured her.


"That's better, not good, but a little better," she purred seductively.
"And would you kindly lose that silly chair you're sitting on? I prefer my
shoe salesmen on their knees. You don't have a problem with that, do you?"
She glared at me, waited for my response and glanced at my boss with a
malicious glint in her eye. I distinctly heard giggling from Miss Bailey's
office, but dared not turn around.


Scooting the seat back and dropping to my knees, just a few feet away from
her shiny black heels, I stumbled for a response. "I'm sorry, Miss Diane.
If this is better for you, then I would be happy to be on my knees while we
try on your heels."


"Good boy. Much better. Now, don't you think you should remove my heels at
this time, hmm? You don't expect me to buy a pair without trying them on,
would you? Or, are you that stupid, hmmm?" She seemed to be enjoying
herself enormously at my expense. I felt the eyes of my new employer boring
through the back of my head.


Dammit, and I need this job!


With my face glowing red and getting very warm, I leaned closer to her
heels, now dangling provocatively in front of me and noticed that her
smooth, tanned legs were quite bare. Miss Diane was not wearing any hose
and expecting me to help her try on new shoes! With all the regulations and
health department stuff, not to mention the fact that Miss Bailey was
observing my every move, what, I wondered, do I do now?


Holding my tongue and biding my time (half expecting my first customer to
make the suggestion to go over and fetch a pair of "footsies"), I proceeded
to place one rather shaky hand across the back of her right heel and
gently...so gently...eased the heel off her dainty foot. It came off
stubbornly, partly because of it's size (7 1/2) and partly because of the
perspiration of her foot against the fine Italian leather.


But off it came and, as you might expect, I quickly surveyed her most
attractive foot. Shapely, smooth and with a very pronounced arch. Her cute
toes were even and rounded with nails that had obviously been shown
considerable care and attention. Delicately painted with a matching deep
red, they contrasted sharply against the tanned white skin of her foot and
she wiggled them seductively, now just inches from my face.


"Well? Do you find my foot attractive? You've been eyeing it long enough!
Speak up!," she demanded imperiously. "Don't be embarrassed, most men would
stand in line for an opportunity to be so near to my feet so I expect to
hear a bit of gratitude on your part," she said, grinning mischievously.


"Uh, yes, Miss Diane," I stumbled. "Your feet are really beautiful and I
find it an honor and a privilege to be able to serve you in this way" (I
didn't become a salesperson for nothing, having always been good at verbal
skills). However, I couldn't believe I was saying this within earshot of
Miss Bailey. I hoped and prayed that she had returned to her work and
wasn't paying any attention to this exchange.


My hopes were dashed though when I glanced up at Miss Diane and saw her
smiling in the direction of Miss Bailey's office. They were obviously both
participating in this strange initiation!


"Not bad," she purred. "Not bad at all. Why, with a little practice we
might make you very popular around here. What's more, I don't even charge
for this service. I guess you might say that I get my reward in 'different
ways', know what I mean? Now, fetch the heels that you think would best
compliment my feet. Go on, hurry! Run, run, run!" she laughed.


Rising quickly and scurrying across the store to find the finest of the new
arrivals, I grabbed a gleaming pair of red, open-toed heels - the sexiest
of the lot. I guessed it to be a perfect fit and an exact match of her nail
color. Before I returned to my station, I quickly grabbed a pair of flimsy
taupe footsies - something everyone must wear prior to trying on shoes at a
shoe store. Hurrying back, I dropped to my knees in front of her, nearly
out of breath.


"An interesting selection, my little helper," she giggled.


"I'll just bet you have quite the imagination, now don't you?" Wouldn't you
just love to see these pretty feet in those heels?!"


"Missy!", she cried, "You don't think you hired a little pervert, do you"?"
she giggled again.


I took the opportunity to glance around and, to my surprise, I saw my new
employer sitting on the edge of her desk, grinning broadly and absently
running a hand across her sleek lower belly. "Glad you approve of the new
help, Di," she exclaimed. "We try to make these little experiences
pleasurable for you, you know!"!



Volume I, Chapter Two...


Turning back and facing my first customer, I fumbled around for the
footsies, which dangled limply from my pocket. "And just what do you intend
to do with those, I wonder?," she snarled. "I just can't wait to hear!"


"Uh, Miss Diane, I think it's some kind of rule that all customers must
wear these things if they don't have stockings on when they try on shoes,"
I uttered lamely. "Is there a problem?"


"Oh yes, silly boy. There is a problem. Your problem. And a very big
problem, I would think. You see, I have no intention of wearing those silly
things," she stated firmly, our eyes meeting. "You see, those rules are
meant for those other ladies who might have sweaty and smelly feet that you
wouldn't want in your new expensive shoesies," she continued snidely. "But,
though my feet may be a little sweaty and smelly, I am clearly not some
'other lady' so, surely you can come up with some kind of solution here,
wouldn't you think?"


"I don't know what you mean, Miss Diane," I said shakily. "It's the rules."
Looking around, I glanced at Miss Bailey, who appeared to be listening
closely to my reaction. What was I supposed to do now, I wondered?


"Well, listen up, new little trainee" she sneered, "this is what I expect
if you ever plan to see me in this shop again. My feet may, in fact, be a
little sweaty and just a tad smelly, having been in these heels for what
seems like hours. So, why don't you bathe them for me before we begin to
try these nice red pumps, hmmm? Yes, in fact, I think I would like that
quite a lot and, apparently it would make you and the health department
happy too" she purred.


Bathe her feet? Actually the thought did appeal to me, I regret to say, but
how was I to do this? Towels? Washcloths? Soap? I didn't know where to
begin to get the stuff I needed.


"Uh, if you'll just give me a minute, I'm sure I can get the things I, uh,
need, uh, that is, uh, if it's ok with Miss Bailey,"


," I said, rising slowly from my kneeling position.


"Don't you move, trainee," Miss Diane barked loudly. "You still haven't
gotten the picture, now have you? Are you stupid or something? Do I have to
spell it out for you? One more time, now. If you expect me to ever buy
another pair of shoes in this shop (and she did have the reputation of
spending a ton every month on the new arrivals), you will bathe my feet
right here and now!"!


"But... how will I do that, Miss Diane?," I honestly inquired. Then,
lowering my face and looking at her pretty foot, bobbing insistently now
just a few inches from me, I began to understood what this visit was all
about...


"Well, stupid little trainee, it would please me enormously if you would
bathe my feet by using your tongue. Now, what do you say to that?," she
hissed, pissed off that she nearly had to actually explain what she wanted
me to do.


My tongue? I guess I will admit to having had some lonely jackoff sessions
where I kind of fantasized about this kind of thing. But, this was reality.
And, with my boss just a few feet away. And, she wanted an answer now. I
glanced over my shoulder, looking at Miss Bailey. Hoping for some reprieve.
She just grinned and seemed to be enjoying the entire show.


Glancing around and seeing that the three of us were quite alone, I decided
that the job was more important that my pride and thought, 'what the hell'.
I guess it wouldn't hurt to try.


"Uh, yes, Miss Diane. I guess I would be delighted,," I said, my heart
pumping madly and my face aglow with shame.


"You guess you'd be delighted to do what, trainee? Say it for all of us to
hear. Consider it part of your formal training."


"I, uh, would, uh, be delighted to bathe your feet with my tongue," I
finally muttered. "In fact," I added, "I would consider it an honor to be
able to serve you in this way."


"Good boy," she exclaimed, grinning and clapping her hands. "Well? Now,
don't just rest there on your knees. Get busy!"


Miss Diane leaned back into the plush material of the chair, her arms
resting on each on the armrests, her head thrown back regally, and offered
me her bare foot, directing it to within an inch of my mouth. "Get to it! I
really don't have all day, you know. I expect to try on a few pair of heels
before I die of old age!"


With that, both she and Miss Bailey snickered delightedly at my obvious
discomfort. Then, lowering my head slightly and opening my mouth, I let my
tongue trace lightly across the tips of Miss Diane's toes.


Watching closely, she purred with delight and said: , "Mmmmmm. Very nice. A
good start. Now that you gotten past the introductions, I want you to put
some heart into it. Go on, now. Lick it like you love it!"


Returning to my task, my tongue began to cruise in earnest across the
contours of Miss Diane's delicate foot, dancing from one smooth sexy toe to
the next. My tongue darted dutifully between her toes, tasting the
tangiiness of her perspiration, cleaning her thoroughly.


"Ahhhhh.... Good boy. Better, much, much better" she cooed, angling back in
her chair even further, watching me and my efforts very closely. "Just keep
it up. I'll tell you when you're through. Understand?"


"Yes, Miss Diane" I mumbled feebly into her warm flesh. My tongue was now
being used for the most slavish of purposes, licking hungrily across the
sole of her warm, moist foot, registering the slight vinegary taste of her
sweat, mingled with the pungent scent of the fine leather. Now licking her
heels, I obediently opened my mouth even wider and began to suck on her
smooth skin, making sounds that, I'm sure, could be heard throughout the
shop. She watched with a triumphant smile on her face.


"Good. Now suck my toes!" she demanded playfully, planting her foot against
my face. "And do a very good job!"


Beginning with her pretty big toe, the one pressing firmly against my lips,
I started to suck, taking it into my mouth and letting my tongue do its
appointed work. Cleansing her precious flesh of sweat, dirt and grime, my
tongue was soon coated with a salty taste. I closed my eyes and resigned
myself to my task, hoping to please her and come out of this experience
with my job.


Which reminded me. What does Miss Bailey think of all this? Could she have
possibly known this was going to happen? Too busy servicing Miss Diane's
foot at the moment, I just wasn't in a position to glance around.


The time seemed to drag by. Minute after minute, dutifully lapping at Miss
Diane's foot like a trained puppy. Occasionally my newest customer (and new
Mistress now, I fantasized) would stretch and smile, watching my efforts
and emitting sighs and little mewing sounds.


"Mmmmmmmmm.... you do that so well. Are you sure this is your first time?"
she teased, poking her toes in and out of my mouth at will. Glancing over
my shoulder, she said, "I think he's going to be very popular around here,
wouldn't you say, Missy?" Slowly withdrawing her pretty foot, she offered
me the other, still encased in the gleaming black leather. "Now the other
foot, slaveboy. Ah, that's a good name for you. Slaveboy. Just look what
you're doing. And apparently enjoying it too, I would think! Hahaha!"


Now, presenting me with her regal foot, I slowly removed her second heel.
With great care, I cradled her slender, shapely calf and tugged gently on
the back of her shoe. Allowing myself the luxury of glancing along the
curves of her leg, my eyes traced a line up along her knee and under her
short leather skirt. Though quite shadowed and difficult to see, I
unmistakably made out the outline of Miss Diane's naked pussy, glistening
in the darkness, obviously coated with her juices. It seems she was
enjoying this little game immensely.


"And just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "Don't even think
about it! Get back to bathing my feet, goddammit!"


My face darted quickly downward, my tongue lapping feverishly across the
warm, moist flesh of her foot. After spending long minutes on her toes, she
began to purr in obvious appreciation. Licking her soles, she smiled again
and said, "So, how do you like the taste, slaveboy? Developing a liking for
it, I would guess" she sneered. "Keep it up!"


Again, minutes seemed to become hours as my tongue proceeded to perform its
slavish chore. Finally, she lifted her foot from my grasp and abruptly
informed me that her feet were sufficiently clean. "But you could have done
a much better job" she informed me firmly. "Now, let's try on some heels.
And be quick about it!"


Pair after pair. Size after size. I knelt and stood and knelt and stood,
serving every wish and whim of my customer. She obviously enjoyed my
discomfort and made me fetch every possible size and style the store had to
offer.


During a rare moment when Miss Diane was inspecting her latest choice, I
had the opportunity to look around (hoping for Miss Bailey's approval).
Imagine my surprise when I spied my new employer leaning seductively
against her desk, in full view of Miss Diane, with one hand firmly placed
about her bare, jutting breast, the other snaking well under the waistband
of her pantsuit. Fingering her pussy, her gorgeous head thrown back in
pleasure, she was watching her shop's latest little transaction. Somehow, I
guess I shouldn't have been surprised.


"Well. I have made my decision" Miss Diane announced. "Wrap them up and do
it fast." Would you believe it? The pair of red, open-toed heels. The very
first pair I offered to her. The rest was all for her cruel amusement.


Darting back to my station before her, I gingerly offered Miss Diane her
selection. "Now, I hope I don't have to inform you of the next service!
But, in case you haven't been told, at this store every customer who
purchases a pair of new shoes gets a foot massage - compliments of your
manager. Isn't that great?"


More debasement. More humiliation. Being used by this vixen bitch was
getting to be a habit. I set about my next task of pleasuring her pretty
feet with my hands, caressing and massaging them. But it was apparent she
wasn't quite through with my humiliation.


"You didn't quite get my drift, did you, stupid? I said 'massage', but did
I say anything about using your hands? Hmmm? Answer me!"


"No, Miss Diane, you didn't," I managed. "I guess I just assumed."


"You guess you just assumed. How cute. As if you could think for yourself.
Well, don't assume, asshole, just obey. I wanted the massage with your
tongue. I found it most pleasant. Now, get to it!"


Spending the next 30 minutes on each of her feet, she began to moan and
move sensuously within her chair. I wondered absently if I might be lucky
enough to be asked to serve her further. With my mouth busy at its
appointed task, my eyes again wandered up into the warm darkness of her
skirt. Her pussy was indeed quite naked and liberally coated with a
glistening film, now spreading freely to her inner thighs.


She caught my glance. Hopefully, I thought, she read my mind...



Volume I, Chapter Three...


"Hmmm. You seem to have such an interest in what's up there, don't you?
Well?" she demanded.


"Yes, Miss Diane, I'll admit it. I apologize for being so forward and, no,
I don't deserve the privilege, but I, uh, can't help myself sometimes. It's
just, uh, that you're so beautiful and, after I had an opportunity to, uh,
lick your..."


"Shut the fuck up!" she screamed. "I just can't stand your blathering! You
are here for one purpose and one purpose only, and that is to service me -
IN ANY WAY I WANT! UNDERSTAND?" Thankfully, there was no one else in the
shop to hear her tirade.


"Yes" I meekly replied. "I'm sorry for being out of line, I don't deserve
anything like what I was..."


"Jesus! I said, shut the fuck up!" she screamed again, now clearly pissed
with my blubbering. "I demand service and service is what I will get! Now,
do you understand that?"


"Yes, Miss Diane"


"Good. Now, I have to pee. A lot, too. In fact, I've had to go bad when I
came in here, but I wanted to check you out first. So... are you ready to
move on to the next step?" She said this more as a statement, not a
question.


The next step? Where was this conversation going?


"Uh, yes, uh, I mean, I guess so, Miss Diane" I babbled.


"Oh, he, uh, um, uh, guesses so" she mimicked cruelly. "Well, we'll soon
find out, won't we, Missy?" she said glancing over my shoulder into my
boss's office.


"I suppose you'll wish to use the ladies room, Di?" Miss Bailey inquired
coyly. "The special one, I mean?"


"Yes. That's it, exactly. And, you, trainee, are coming along to help. Care
to watch, Missy"?, ?" she purred seductively.


"Oh. Wouldn't miss this for the world" she returned. "This is getting
better all the time!"


"Good" said Miss Diane. "Come along, slaveboy, and hmmm, just for effect,
crawl to the ladies room. I might just have a special surprise for you.
And, just for kicks, I think we'll have you wear this nasty little leash"
she said, suddenly looping a thick black leather belt around my neck.


Completely lost and yet finding myself on my hands and knees, being tugged
along and following the two women into the darkened rear of the store, I
became further confused as they purposely passed the restroom door.
Strolling provocatively towards the back wall, amidst the tumble and jumble
of countless shoeboxes, was an old, dirty single mattress, completely
stained and ready for the garbage truck. Earlier in the day, I wondered why
it was kept around in such an upscale shop. I was soon to learn...


Abruptly, Miss Bailey spun around, glared into my eyes with her hands on
her hips and said, "Let me make this short and sweet. I do not care to hear
what you think about it. It comes down to this. You passed the first part
of our test. Now you're about to enter the next step in your training. Let
me begin by saying that you were hired here not only to sell shoes and
provide the very finest in service to our wonderful customers" she said,
winking at Miss Diane, "but to serve other, shall we say, eh, more
interesting purposes as well."


"Interesting"??"


"Depraved" would be a better word. What could be weirder than what I just
got through doing out on the floor of the shop? Again, my answer was soon
in coming...


Looking into my eyes, glancing occasionally over at Miss Diane, Miss Bailey
lowered her voice and announced their wicked intentions, "Whether you knew
it or not, you were also hired to serve as our little toilet. Now, what do
you think about that?" she brazenly demanded.


It was clearly a moment of truth. I was stunned and ashamed. But, hearing
their light giggles, I'll admit to having been excited too. A lot. My cock
throbbed against the material of my pants and begged for release. I
couldn't believe this was happening to me. A toilet? What would I be asked
to do for these wanton sluts that I haven't done already? Surely this was
only part of the test - they couldn't mean it literally...


My head was swimming and I couldn't come up with the right words to say. I
looked at the two of them blankly, now beginning to run their hands over
each other's voluptuous bodies.


"Well, I guess we'll just have to interpret his silence as a willingness to
comply with the rules of this shop" Miss Bailey announced gleefully to Miss
Diane. "So, now then, lie on your back on this mattress and be quick about
it, my friend wishes to relieve herself."


Apparently my decision was made as I crawled over to the dirty mattress and
lay on my back, still embarrassed that my huge cock was straining at my
pants and openly betrayed me. I awaited the next step in my training...


Miss Diane broke from her embrace with Miss Bailey and stepped gingerly
onto the mattress, her sharp heels accidentally prodding into the skin of
my thigh with her misstep. Not bothering to apologize for my obvious
discomfort, she slowly positioned herself so that each high-heeled foot was
on either side of my head, my eyes gazing upward into the darkness of her
warm, moist pussy.


Hitching her black leather skirt, already so short, up to her waist, I was
treated with a heavenly sight. Her glorious womanhood, kept from me for
what seemed so long, was now within my gaze. Spreading her knees slightly
and watching my reaction closely, she slowly lowered herself into a
squatting position, my prize now just inches from my waiting mouth.


"Do you know what it means to serve as my toilet, slave?"?, she demanded.
"It means that you open your mouth and say ahhhhhhhh......and wait for your
special surprise."


It was hard not to stroke myself as I lay there under Miss Diane and
pondered my fate. Dutifully, I opened my mouth and waited.... Still
disbelieving...



Volume I, Chapter Four...


The darkened room grew silent and our collective breathing was all that
could be heard. For what was only a few seconds but what seemed like hours,
I lay beneath Miss Diane and wondered what this experience could possibly
hold. Surely, this wasn't going to be what I thought it would be. They were
only testing me...


My curiosity ended with the first few drops of warm piss that splashed
against my chin and neck, trickling down to soak my tie and collar of my
new white shirt. Before having much time to react one way or the other, the
trickle slowly became a stream as Miss Diane rocked forward to direct her
golden nectar into my waiting mouth.


"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...... Oh, that is so good....... Mmmmmmmmmmm...... right
where it belongs" she sighed dreamily. "Like the taste, slaveboy? Swallow
it! Swallow all of it!"


My mouth filled quickly to overflowing when I took my first gulp of her
piss, sending it cascading into my throat. Each mouthful was quickly
replaced by another as I repeatedly swallowed what seemed like gallons of
her warm piss.


As if this final embarrassment wasn't enough, Miss Diane proceeded to rock
back and forth on her heels even further, sending the strong stream of piss
crashing against my cheeks, nose and forehead. As I closed my eyes, the hot
liquid pooled before running off onto my hair and ears. It went on for what
seemed an eternity, the pungent stream finally abating as she redirected it
into my mouth.


"Good boy! Now, swallow the rest of it! Ahhhhhhh...... Very, very
good....."


I found myself drenched in her piss as I re-opened my eyes and watched her
do the unimaginable. Miss Diane lowered herself even further and demanded,
"Now, use that very talented tongue to clean me off. We seem to have just
run out of toilet paper" she laughed nastily.


Miss Diane victoriously closed the distance and soon my face was completely
covered with her warm, wet muff. Striving to please her, I began lapping
wildly at her sex, running my tongue along her heavenly cleft, from her
clitoris into the depths of her dark, wet hole, and back again. Over and
over and over again. I explored the delicate folds on each side of her
precious mound, now covered with perspiration and smeared with her piss,
tasting her juices again and again as they rolled down onto my tongue. She
rocked back and forth and squealed with girlish delight at my
ministrations, placing her pussy all over my face as she directed my
tongue's efforts, frequently tugging on the tight leash around my neck.


"I'll say this much for him, Missy" she laughed, looking up from me to her
friend, "His tongue is one of the best we've had! I think I'll have him
make me cum come in his mouth for good measure. What do you think?"


"Glad you approve of my selection, Di" replied Miss Bailey gamely. "Good
help is hard to find, you know!" They snickered cruelly at their joke until
it became apparent that Miss Diane wanted to get serious with my tongue
play.


"Okay, come on, get that tongue in there. You couldn't keep your eyes off
it, so there it is. Lap it up. Come on, eat me out, slaveboy and get a nice
mouthful of my pussy juice to go along with my piss. Mmmmmmmm."


Miss Diane couldn't have been in too much of a hurry to come since she
found time to slide slightly forward and place the crack of her ass against
my waiting mouth. "Mmmmmmm, yeah..... that's what I like" she sighed
softly. "Lick my ass, toilet slave. Get your tongue way up there and taste
me, slaveboy. Clean it out."


She seemed virtually crazed with passion as she drove her shapely ass down
onto my tongue, smearing her sticky juices across my entire face, allowing
me to run my tongue from her asshole up to her clit, then back again and
again and again. My tongue plunged deep into her tight ass and caressed the
hot, smooth ring of her anus. It swirled deep inside her most private place
and I felt her muscles relax as she placed even more of her weight against
my open mouth. Long minutes passed in silence until time itself seemed to
stand still...


Finally, with my jaw near breaking and my tongue exhausted, I sensed her
mounting excitement and felt her ease back slightly to redirect the action
of my tongue upon her drenched sex. Within a few short minutes, her thighs
began to quiver uncontrollably and I knew her time was very near. Glancing
up, I saw Miss Bailey bend at the waist and press her hot lips to one of
Miss Diane's stiff pink nipples and begin to nibble. Miss Diane squirmed
and squealed with delight.


"Oh god! Oh my god! Ohhhhmmmyyyyyygoddddd!!!!! ! I'm gunna cumcome... so
close... gunna cumcome...eat it... lap it up... mmmmmm......... suck it
out... oh yeahhhh...... aaaAAAAHHHHHHHH......... OH GOD!!!!!! TAKE IT
ALL!!!!!!!!"!"


Miss Diane jerked and spasmed against my mouth as her pussy juices suddenly
released in earnest and flowed across my tongue, filling my mouth again and
giving me even more to swallow. Over and over she slid across my face,
lewdly smearing her hot wet sex against me until she was finally sated.
Slowly, she grew quiet until she became absolutely still, her sodden pussy
still pressed firmly against my mouth.


"Mmmm, very good job, slaveboy. You have just passed the second test" she
sighed in obvious triumph.


Wobbling slightly, she lifted her weight off my face, now totally drenched
with her juices, and stepped off the mattress. Standing with Miss Bailey,
Miss Diane glanced down at me to view her nasty handiwork. They laughed in
appreciation at my piss-drenched hair, face and shirt and remarked that I
should smell quite ripe by quitting time. Even now, they seemed to want to
go out of their way to embarrass and humiliate me.


"Well" said Miss Diane, lowering her skirt and tidying her blouse and hair,
"I guess the fun's over for today. Well, for me, anyway," she said, winking
at her friend Missy. Grabbing her new heels, turning and blowing a kiss at
my prone form, she giggled loudly and said, "See you around, trainee. I'm
sure you understand why I can't kiss you goodbye" she snickered. "Maybe
next time I'll let you amuse one of my friends. Would you like that?"
Stopping briefly to let her long fingers dance lightly through the hard
candies in a bowl near the cash register, she turned, smiled and added,
"Oh, and maybe next time, we can move on to the next step in your training.
Ciao."


...and out of the shop she pranced, her back arched proudly with a regal
tilt to her head, conscious of all the admiring eyes on the street, amused
and wondering to herself who could possibly guess what just went on in the
lady's shoe store.


Back in the darkened recess of the shop, Miss Bailey sat on a large carton
and stared down at her exhausted new employee. "You were most obedient
today and I would like to tell you how pleased I am with the way you've
seemed to adapt to your training. By now, even you can figure out how I
intend to use you around here. It's a rather interesting way to assure that
my best customers keep coming back, wouldn't you say?" she added softly
with a wicked smile


"Thank you, Miss Bailey" I said shakily. "I really want to make you proud
of me here at your store" I offered lamely, not quite sure how to respond.


"Well, you're off to a good start. There is, however, a long way to go.
Step three, for instance...


Step three? What was that, anyway? I heard Miss Diane refer to 'step three'
also. I wondered down which road to depravity this next step might lead
me...


I was about to ask Miss Bailey about the 'next step' when she rose regally
and stepped over toward the still-reclining head of her newest 'employee'.
Kicking off her heels and slipping out of her slacks, she leaned forward
and eased out of her silky, black thong panties. Stepping carefully over my
face and straddling me once again, she lowered herself slowly towards my
mouth. Leaning towards me with a naughty pout, Miss Bailey said, "we'll
worry about step three some other time, though maybe some time real soon.
Lets just say that you really must agree to perform everything I ask in
order to keep your job. Now it's my turn. I have to pee. Are you ready?"



Volume II, Chapter One...


"Was I ready? How could anyone really ever be ready for this humiliation?"
I thought to myself. But it was strange how I found myself getting more and
more excited at the prospect of servicing Miss Bailey and her nasty clique
of 'customers'. My mind raced as I gazed through the darkness up at Miss
Bailey, already in a half-squat and lowering herself even further towards
my waiting mouth.


"I said, slaveboy, are you ready?" she hissed impatiently. "I expect an
answer. And, this isn't the only time you are going to be expected to be a
little more enthusiastic in your responses. Do you understand me? Now, what
do you wish to say to me, hmmm?"


"Uh, yes, Miss Bailey, I'm ready" I stuttered, seeing that today's chores
as her new toilet slave were not yet at an end.


"Ready to do what, I wonder?" she glared at me and snapped, suddenly
turning a previously unseen sullen and vicious side toward me. She was
forcing me to consciously participate in this degrading act.


"I, uh, mean I'm, uh, ready to serve as your toilet and drink your piss,
Miss Bailey" I managed, trying to be as obedient as possible and defuse her
sudden anger. Turning my head slightly and feeling my hair matted against
the back of my head, I found I was drenched in Miss Diane's piss and,
despite the mattress, my back was growing cold and somewhat uncomfortable,
reminding me of my humiliating experience.


"That's better, slave" she glowered and whispered fiercely into my face,
her sweet, warm breath brushing against me. "Now, I expect you to practice
and be prepared to beg during the right moments. My customers are paying a
fortune for their footwear and I intend to deliver the finest in service,
do you understand? You have me to thank for allowing a worthless piece of
shit like you to practice on me."


"Thank you, Miss Bailey, I, uh, I'll do my best" I responded instantly,
smarting from the insult but obeying her instructions.


"That's it! See how easy it can be? Much better. Now open up and say
ahhhhh," she whispered huskily, her long fingers carefully spreading the
delicate folds of her pretty blonde pussy, exposing the soft, glistening,
pink flesh to me, now just a fraction of an inch from my lips. My eyes
widened and my mouth watered automatically at the glorious sight.


I squinted slightly but was still able to observe this demanding beauty as
she balanced above me, her face lost in blissful concentration as she began
to relax her full bladder. "You know, there are some things you simply must
be able to figure out for yourself, slaveboy. That is, if you're to do well
around here for me" she warned with an exasperated sigh, interrupting her
train of thought. With that said, she again paused for a long, silent
minute until I began to feel the first few warm drops of her piss patter
upon my waiting tongue...


Over the next few minutes, Miss Bailey's golden nectar slowly drizzled down
upon my outstretched tongue and trickled to the back of my throat,
congregating there and filling my mouth. I swallowed the pungent, yellow
froth quickly and reopened my mouth, aware (somehow proudly, I mused) that
not a drop was spilled. She continued to piss, watching me closely and
controlling the stream so that every drop appeared to be intended for my
mouth. "What's the use?" I thought. "Why is she so careful? I'm already
drenched." My answer was soon in coming...


Pausing for a moment and allowing me to swallow yet one more time, Miss
Bailey gazed down between her knees and smiled wickedly, "For your
information, my toilet slaves take every drop. Do you understand me? Every
drop." Tugging roughly on my new leash, she hissed darkly, "Just remember
that..."


The warm stream, though now slightly stronger and more insistent, continued
again to accurately fill my mouth and I eagerly drank forever from her
beautiful golden fountain. The stark silence of the room was filled with my
gasps and gurgles and the hiss of Miss Bailey's hot piss as she continued
to relieve herself into my mouth.


"Ahhhhhhhhhh...... god, that is so good.... so very, very good....
Mmmmmmm....." she sighed, as her piss cascaded down carefully upon my
tongue, continuing for what seemed like hours.


Her taste was interesting, and exciting. Warm, saltier and with a slightly
stronger taste than Miss Diane's, the earthy tang clung stubbornly to my
tongue, reminding me of what had come before. Now, as I swallowed
obediently, the forbidden bouquet of my boss's urine filled my senses. My
deprivation was becoming complete...


Not that it's the taste that is so exciting, I found, but rather the
depravity of the act itself that was becoming addictive. This high rolling
bitch was actually convinced that this was a man's place - down here
between her legs, lying complacently and serving as her toilet. And, simply
by doing everything she demanded, I was wholeheartedly agreeing with her.
In this circus of depravity and humiliation, I was her trained animal. I
found that I was exploring a new realm, finding a forbidden treasure trove
of sexual (indeed, psychic) excitement never even conceived of before. I
swallowed eagerly, this time more in earnest...again and again.


"Ahhhhhhh..... that's a good slave.... Don't miss a drop!" she ordered
quietly, now stretching, arching her back and throwing her head back,
running her hands through her luxurious blonde mane. Now, by spreading her
legs slightly, her dripping mound was lowered still more and brushed
against my lips, eventually covering my nose and wetting my chin and
cheeks. Her piss continued and I felt her soft wet pussy hair lewdly
painting my face...


"Ok, now clean me up, slaveboy. That's it. Get every drop. Ahhhhh........."
She rocked back and forth against my face, controlling the action and
directing my tongue to it's nasty chore. "Mmmmmmmm....., that's wonderful,
and I do believe you got every drop!" she snickered, moving her hips
rhythmically across my face.


After a short while though, Miss Bailey abruptly lifted herself off of my
mouth, glanced down, smiled at me with her full pouty lips and continued,
"Too bad for you, toilet slave, but, unlike some of my customers, I choose
not to give you and your disgusting mouth the privilege of making me come
with your tongue. That little pleasure is obviously their personal
preference. For such things, I have other 'acquaintances' that serve me.
Hope you don't mind, ha ha" she added spitefully.


Actually, I guess I did mind, despite the fact that my tongue and jaw had
really gotten a workout this afternoon. Funny, it seemed that, having been
forbidden the opportunity of lapping at her fair sex and tasting her
silvery cum, I desired it even more. Guys are just like that, I guess...


Rising and standing to her full height over me, using her arm to brace
herself against the wall, she lifted one dainty foot and placed her bare
toes against my mouth, running them seductively across my lips. She
continued mocking me, "You, on the other hand, slaveboy, are reserved for
'special purposes'" she cooed. "Now kiss my toes. Come on, kiss them like a
good slave. Worship me" she ordered harshly, roughly burrowing her slender,
manicured toes past my lips and into my mouth, impatiently waiting for the
warm, wet flicks of my tongue.


Her soft, moist toes, having been tightly encased in her heels, tasted of
her perspiration and smelled of the fine leather of her heels, not at all
unlike those of Miss Diane. She continued probing my mouth with her toes
for several minutes, sometimes with attempts to be gentle, sometimes
deliberately rough, but always with her profound aura of female dominance.
Removing her toes, she placed the sole of her foot against my face,
wordlessly commanding me to continue lapping at her. Despite her obvious
amusement, Miss Bailey soon tired of this game...


Turning around slowly and facing my feet, she busied herself by placing her
other foot in my mouth. "Now, this one, slaveboy. I do have two feet, you
know" she declared regally, admiring herself in the large antique mirror
mounted on the wall. "Lick it clean for me and do a good job."


With her pretty ped in my mouth, my tongue glided easily across her nails
and smoothly slipped between her toes again and again. The tang of her soft
flesh began to fade as I dutifully cleaned her feet of the dirt and sweat
of the day. "God, I see what Di meant when she said you were a 'natural'"
she again seemed to say more to the mirror than to anyone in particular.
"Nice to see you like your work" she added softly, watching herself smile
and speak.


Not that the view from this position wasn't great. With her turned around
this way, I was presented with a captivating view of Miss Bailey's
picturesque ass, swaying softly as she bobbed her toes in and out of my
mouth. And a classic ass it was, too, I marveled. Much like Miss Diane's,
in fact. The kind of slim, shapely ass you hope to walk behind on the
street. An ass that looks identical to an upside down heart: slender, soft,
and just waiting to be loved... It was magnificent and my cock bobbed in
appreciation. I wondered if Miss Bailey could see the strained, pulsating
material of my pants. I wondered if she cared...


She gingerly removed her toes from my mouth and placed her feet squarely on
each side of my head, her ankles brushing against my ears. Imagine my
excitement as I realized that she was intending to slowly lower herself
into a squatting position, designed to eventually place her divine ass
right against my slavish mouth!


She didn't say a word as the distance closed and my tongue found its way,
burrowing obediently into Miss Bailey's glorious asscrack. At first, she
presented me with that delightful place between her pussy and her asshole,
that forbidden stretch of taut smooth skin that obviously appreciated the
tickling tip of my tongue. Rocking forward rather dramatically, she next
presented me with the top of her asscrack, the skin stretched tightly
across her tailbone. I nibbled diligently on my elegant prize, taking the
opportunity to let my tongue wander as far down as I could - hopefully
sending a message that I would eagerly love to lap at her asshole. I
wondered, (especially after being told that her pussy was off-limits), if I
would get the opportunity...


If the smell and sweat of her feet had any effect on my imprisoned cock,
her ass sent me to new highs. She proceeded to present it carefully to my
mouth, seemingly able to select just the right places for my tongue to
serve. And service her, I did...


My prayers were answered when, in the dark silence, Miss Bailey slid back
slightly to place her delicate asshole squarely against my lips. My tongue
responded eagerly, licking all around the pretty rosebud, flicking
frantically in all directions, wanting to please her. Unlike the rest of
her tastes, however, I noticed something else this time. Something very
different...


By reflex, my tongue stiffened and I hesitantly probed within the soft,
circular ring of her anus. It wasn't long before my senses forced me to
realize that Miss Bailey has actually intended to make me use my tongue to
clean her of the remnants of a previous shit, obviously taken not long
before she found herself resting on my face. Trapped between the cleft of
her soft ass cheeks and the filthy, piss-covered mattress cover, my face
was locked in place. I knew my options were few and, I thought, my
embarrassment and revulsion readily apparent. I heard myself moan softly...


She pressed her soiled ass firmly against my mouth and telegraphed her
desires by using her hands to spread her cheeks even further, squirming
lewdly and resting even more of her weight against my oral ministrations,
her anus opening and closing obligingly with the action of my tongue. "How
could she ask me to do this?" I thought.


I could suddenly stop, I supposed, and twist and turn my head in revulsion
until she had to let me up. But, strangely, even under these deprived
circumstances, I found myself far too anxious not to comply with her every
wish and incur her obvious wrath. Stranger still, I found myself excited
and exhilarated, actually reveling in my debasement. So I chose to serve
her. I closed my eyes and let my tongue continue it's filthy work...


The slightly bitter taste of her soiled asshole continued to penetrate my
senses and fill my mouth as I proceeded to lick her clean. The weight of
Miss Bailey's ass held me in place and, she had, oddly, I thought, been
uncharacteristically silent. That is, until now...


"Well, well, well..." she finally muttered, again, more to herself and the
darkened room than anyone else. "Guess what we have here?" she giggled
lightly. "I was wondering how you were going to react to this little chore.
So, you like the taste of my shit, slaveboy?"


She was speaking softly and most of what I heard was muffled, my ears
against the soft, warm flesh of her inner thighs, my nose and mouth pressed
against her ass, my tongue continuing to lap like a depraved puppy. I did,
however, make out her distinctly superior tone as she again declared
proudly to the mirror, "You might notice a little something extra down
there, just a little surprise for all your hard work today. Consider it a
'bonus'." Now, be a good boy and just keep it up. Lick me clean, slaveboy.
It seems I was a little rushed earlier today and haven't had quite the
opportunity to clean myself as well as I might. But, with your obedient
little tongue around, I can see that's really not an issue anymore, now is
it?"


"Mmmphhh..." I murmured against the warmth of her ass, attempting to answer
as directed. My face was growing warm and red with the dawning realization
that this was all planned by my Miss Bailey. This was beyond all of my
wildest expectations. But, obviously, not beyond hers...


"Come on, slaveboy, use your tongue the way it was meant. Mmmmm, that's it.
Clean it up. I think you're going to be very popular around here, do you
know that? Wait till the girls hear this!" she declared triumphantly. "Who
would have ever guessed this about you? Your Miss Diane will be very happy
to hear about this little talent of yours', do you know that?"


"Slurrpppp... Mmmmphhh.." I responded in turn, my tongue lapping feverishly
against her silky smooth ass, still coated with the dirty, bitter taste of
her shit. Being made to serve her this way was bad enough, but the thought
of Miss Bailey telling her friends, well, it was just much, too much...


"Done yet? Hmmmm?" she teased. "Hurry up, then, I don't have all day. Lick
me clean and you can get back to work. Come on, step on it!"


Leaving my pride well behind, I increased my pace and laved every square
inch of Miss Bailey's ass, over and over, until she deemed it clean and
demanded I stop. She didn't move, but rather, seemed to use my face as her
royal throne while she continued to explain my situation. "Leave your
tongue right were it is" she demanded peevishly. She paused and seemed to
be lost in thought for minutes...


"So, are you surprised?" she asked innocently, cupping her chin in her hand
and once again directing her questions to the mirror. "You seemed to be
enjoying yourself immensely" an obvious referral to my poorly hidden
erection. "Regardless, I think you'll do very nicely. And good toilet
slaves are just so difficult to find" she said petulantly. "In fact, I'd
like to give you an even nicer bonus right now" she exclaimed with a
knowing giggle, her intent obvious, "but, as I said, I just took a shit
earlier today. Maybe sometime real soon though, okay?" My heart flip-
flopped at the thought.



With that, Miss Bailey sighed and slowly eased herself off my face, now
smeared with much of which she ordered me to lick off of her. "At some
other time and in another place, I'd like to have you walk around looking
like that," she grinned, "but, for now, clean yourself up and get out on
the floor. There's still work to be done." Looking down with what I
mistakenly mistook as sympathy, she added, "Oh, and you may thank me now,
slaveboy. Remember what I told you before"


"Thank her?" For having me serve as her footslave?...and her toilet?...with
my tongue at her beck and call? My god, this was beyond the bizarre! I felt
like Alice in some deranged and depraved Wonderland.


"Uh, thank you, Miss Bailey. Thank you, um, very much. I am so glad you
appreciate my, er, services." As much as I thought what I said was a lie,
strangely, I found myself beginning to believe my answer...


"Good boy! Now, clean up and get out there! Christ, it's nearly quitting
time!" And, with that, Miss Bailey stepped over my face and began easing
into her clothes, slipping her now clean feet back into her heels, her
clean ass into the thong panties. Looking down at me with wicked amusement,
"the real bathroom is over there," she grinned.


Alone in the men's room, I stood shakily at the mirror, warm water
splashing into the basin. Inhaling deeply, I could smell the fragrant
scents of both Miss Diane and Miss Bailey on my face and hair. Piss, now
long cooled, stained my collar and pressed against the back of my neck, a
constant reminder of my humiliation. My mouth was aching and my tongue was
sore. Inhaling deeply again, I clearly smelled the two ladies. I found my
cock demanding relief. Glancing down at its girth, clearly visible through
my pants, I slowly unzipped my fly, finally liberating the long, hard rod.


Stroking it slowly, I watched myself in the men's room mirror. A slaveboy,
I thought, left to relieve himself in the men's room. This was just more
humiliation, to be sure. The deep purple head of my cock dripped with
precum and lubricated my hand as I pumped along its length, over and
over...


"What are you doing in there? Miss Bailey rapped loudly on the door and
screamed from the hall outside. "You better not be doing anything for
yourself on my time! Now, get out here, NOW!"


Understanding the true humiliation of my situation, I sheepishly replaced
my cock in my pants (with some difficulty, I might add!), rinsed my face
quickly and stepped hesitantly through the door of the men's room, half-
expecting Miss Bailey to be standing there to continue her tirade. Finding
the hall empty, I quickly ambled toward the front of the store.


Speaking of humiliation, though, imagine my reaction as I silently walked
past Miss Bailey's office and heard her describe someone who had to be me
to whomever she had just called. They cackled hysterically for minutes,
despite the fact that she was quite sure I could hear every word.
Obviously, most of the questions came from whoever was on the other end of
the line, with Miss Bailey just saying, "oh yes" or "absolutely" or
breaking into peals of uncontrolled laughter. "Oh honey, I'm sure I'll be
able to make him available to you," she added, giggling loudly, "that is,
if the price is right. We're just not quite through breaking him in, if you
know what I mean! Hee hee!"


Finally, back in the shop, leafing through the empty boxes scattered
carelessly in front of Miss Diane's "special seat" I rearranged the stock
and returned the boxes to the shelves. As I was completing the last of my
tasks, Miss Bailey appeared suddenly from behind and announced, "I'm going
to ask you to lock up tonight. Some friends and I will be attending a play
and dinner. Surely, you don't have a problem with that," she added
condescendingly with a sneer.


I quickly agreed and, admittedly, looked forward to a little downtime. When
a shiny black limousine arrived, she slipped through the front door of the
shop with little more than a glance and an imperious, "Be on time tomorrow.
We may be busy, or should I say, you may be busy." Grinning victoriously,
she finished with 'tata'."


The limo sat for a minute or two, idling smoothly while Miss Bailey
situated herself comfortably amidst her lady friends and the rich leather
seats. The long, deep kisses shared by the three hinted of the evening
ahead and I began to understand why some things about Miss Bailey were
designated as 'off limits'." After chatting with some animation, imagine my
discomfort when the door of the car re-opened and both ladies stepped out
to peer through the plate glass into the shop. Each woman, both very, very
young, I thought, and with long blonde hair and sleek, shapely legs, was
clad in a fur that probably represented my entire annual income. Not
certain whether their interest was directed at me or the merchandise, my
curiosity ended as they spotted me and began to wave, giggle and point in
my direction. I realized then, that in the first few minutes in the car, my
Miss Bailey had obviously informed them of the newfound talents of her
latest employee. A burning embarrassment, now so familiar, returned to my
face. With lowered eyes, I watched them entertain themselves for long
moments until they turned and slid into the waiting seats of the limo,
still chuckling. The long black car disappeared down the street. I was
finally alone.


After closing the shop, I trudged down the street toward my car, aware of
all the watching eyes of the passersby. I was shamed with what I knew they
could read in my eyes. The evening consisted of peering into the bottom of
a bottle of Dewar's scotch, pondering my fate. I fell asleep exhausted,
still clad in my new white shirt...



Volume II, Chapter Three, the next day...


Now, upon reflection, my second day on the job was comparatively
uneventful. Arriving on time, I busied myself amongst the inventory,
cleaning and arranging the merchandise as I had been instructed. Miss
Bailey didn't arrive until mid-morning, strolling in gracefully with that
imperial bearing of hers'. Absolutely no reference was made of the
activities of the day before, as she snapped orders and expected them to be
carried out instantly.


Customers were few and far between and I began wondering how it was that
Miss Bailey could keep this shop profitable. Was it only footwear that she
marketed here? Or, was there something else? I idled away the hours,
pondering this question and trying to look busy.


The customers themselves were comparatively normal as well, with the
possible exception of the obese, middle-aged man who demanded a pair of
furry black mules - in size 13D! I laughed to myself as I imagined his
bizarre fantasy, hoping (successfully) that he wouldn't insist on trying
them on. The few female customers that did arrive spent their sugardaddy's
fortune freely and wandered on about their way, far too self-absorbed to
even acknowledge my presence.


Unlike the day before, Miss Bailey was completely engrossed in her work,
spending hours reviewing inventory reports, suggestively chiding the
salesmen who visited her in her office, her regal attitude and biting
approach fully intact. Occasionally, she would pass the time on the
telephone, obviously making personal calls which were always marked by
streams of hysterical giggles ringing throughout the shop. It was near
quitting time when I was forced to answer an incoming call...


"Good afternoon. Missy's Luxurious Leather Footwear Shoppe. May I serve
you?" , I answered immediately in the way I was taught.


"Oh, I'm quite sure you can, you fool!" , hissed a familiar voice on the
other end of the line. I immediately recognized the caller to be Miss
Diane. Shame and embarrassment began to seep into my mind. "This is Miss
Diane and I demand to speak to the incompetent bore who sold me a pair of
heels yesterday!"


"Uh, Miss Diane, I, uh, believe that, uh, that may have been me" I
responded shakily, unsure of where she was going with this line of
questioning. "How may I help, uh, serve you?" correcting myself instantly.


"Well, if it isn't the little slaveboy!" she hissed darkly, then added,
"or, should I say, the little toilet slave, hmmmm? I've heard some nasty
rumors about you. Dream about my pretty toes last night?"


"Uhmmm" was all I could manage, looking around frantically for help from
Miss Bailey.


"Uhmmm" she mimed cruelly., "Llucky thing your customers don't require your
clever wit, isn't it?"


"Um, yes, Miss Diane," dodging her vicious verbal onslaught. "How are you
today?" I managed to croak.


"Don't you take that familiar tone with me, toilet slave!" she screamed.
"'How' I am is none of your business. 'What' I am is. And, right now, I am
very pissed off and am about to complain to your boss. Do you understand
me?"


"Yes, Miss Diane" I responded, glancing around nervously, expecting more of
her tirade.


"Yes, Miss Diane" she hissed back immediately. "Let me tell you something,
you bumbling fool. The heels that I allowed you to try on my feet yesterday
afternoon were not the right size. They're too small and my feet suffered
last night. And all because of you and your fucking incompetence. Now, what
do you have to say about that, hmmm?"


"Well, gosh, uh, I'm sorry" I stumbled, trying to placate Miss Diane with
an apology. "I sure didn't mean to."


"Oh, you didn't mean to?" , she demanded. "Well, the harm is done and I am
about to inform Missy that I intend to move my business to another shop. I
knew I shouldn't have let you touch me. I just knew it!"


Caught in a tight spot between an angry Miss Diane and an exacting,
demanding Miss Bailey, I tried to be reasonable and work out the problem. I
reviewed the returned goods policy in my head as I answered.


"Uh, Miss Diane? Missy's, uh, I mean, Miss Bailey's returned goods policy
doesn't allow us to refund or replace the shoes if they've been worn" I
muttered, knowing I was only making the matter worse. "I'll have to refer
this matter to Miss Bailey, I think."


"Oh, that's a good idea. A really brainstorm, you moron!" she hissed back.
"Let me tell you something. If I have to speak to Missy about this, I'm
going to tell her where it is I'm going to begin to shop for my new shoes,
and it won't be at her place. Understand? And, do you also understand that
that will cost you your stupid, lowly job? Huh, do you understand that as
well?" she screamed across the line.


"Yes ma'am, I, uh, do" trying to think on my feet. "Maybe I can help solve
this problem, though, Miss Diane" I said, struggling to think creatively.


"Well, then? What are you going to do?" she continued, seemingly on the
edge of hysteria. "I demand to know right now how you're going to make this
better."


Luckily, I already knew the next size of that particular shoe, that sexy,
red, open-toed pair of heels, (I recalled lustfully), was in stock. Larceny
crept into my head as I tried to solve this problem quickly and quietly.
Hell, I figured, if I just gave Miss Diane this other pair, I could pay for
it sometime before they were even missed. (Or, for that matter, before I
lost this job, I thought ruefully). Moments dragged on as I tried to work
out a plan...


"Well, fool, I'm waiting. And I don't like to kept waiting. Particularly by
someone such as yourself" she hissed into her mouthpiece. I envisioned her
sultry red lips, close against the phone, spraying her anger out at me. I
was not exactly shocked as I began to get aroused...


With my plan in place, I offered Miss Diane a solution, "Uh, Miss Diane, I,
uh, just happen to have a new, replacement pair of those heels in the next
larger size. I would be happy to give them to you, if you could come in
later today." knowing already that Miss Bailey routinely takes off early at
4:30.


Still not ready to let me off the hook, Miss Diane continued, "Excuse me?
Did you say 'come in later today'? Are you serious, or are you really that
fucking dumb? I was there just yesterday and I have no intention to visit
again today. So, what are you going to do about it, hmmm?"


"Uh, I could set them aside for you, I suppose" I said, trying to buy
myself a bit of time and work out the details later. It didn't quite
work...


"Oh, that's rich. 'Set them aside for me', the dummy says. Why not put them
on layaway while you're at it, asshole?" she screamed viciously. "Better
try again and you better make it good. I don't have all day to chat with
the likes of you!"


In such trouble that I threw caution to the wind and tried another tactic.
I said, "Uh, Miss Diane, I would be delighted to deliver them to your home,
that is, if you'd like."


"Christ almighty, you are a bother" she responded, calming a bit. "Deliver
them, hmmm? Directly to my home, hmmm? Well, is that the best you can do,
stupid little slaveboy? Hmmm?"


"Uh, yes ma'am, I said, then, "I mean, no Miss Diane, I mean, uh, well, uh,
it's not the best I can do, but..."


"There you go, mumbling and bumbling again. God, I think I should talk to
Missy about you anyway. But, I'll give you one more chance" she whispered
viciously. "Now, how soon can you get them to me, hmmm?"


Knowing roughly were she lived (a very posh, upscale section of town, to be
sure), I added 20 minutes from when I knew Miss Bailey would be leaving the
shop. "I, uh, should be able to deliver them before five this afternoon,
Miss Diane." I said.


"I'll be waiting." was all she said as I heard her slam the phone down and
the line abruptly go dead. My ears rang and my cheeks burned from Miss
Diane's verbal assault. Turning around, I knew I was fortunate that Miss
Bailey was nowhere in sight...


Volume II, Chapter Four...


I idled away the remainder of the afternoon, hoping and praying that Miss
Bailey was true to her schedule and would leave promptly at 4:30. As she
marched regally through the door without the slightest nod in my direction,
I breathed a sigh of relief.


Darting quickly to the back of the shop, I tucked the new pair of heels
under my arm and left the store, turning off the lights and locking the
door securely behind me. I made my way nervously to my car, an old '72
Datsun, and motored erratically to Miss Diane's neighborhood, not quite
sure of what was in store for me.


Her home was in the middle of the trendy mid-town area, a collection of old
Victorian homes and vintage automobiles. An area someone like me could only
hope to drive through. I gaped at the wealth, readily apparent in all
directions.


Her address led me to a remarkable building, a stark contrast amidst the
long blocks of older architecture. A tall, black steel and glass
skyscraper, it stood as an obvious affront to the fine examples of gentile
living that surrounded it. The proud coldness of the building was, somehow,
totally appropriate for Miss Diane, I remarked to myself. Parking my car in
the rear of the building, I nervously made my way through the chrome
revolving doors and into the sterile lobby. There, I was confronted by a
security guard of enormous stature. He glowered down with obvious
disapproval.


"And, how may I help you?" he managed to sneer, looking me over with thinly-
veiled disdain.


"I, uh, have a, uh, package for, uh, a Miss Diane" I stammered, suddenly
aware that I hadn't a clue as to her last name. And then to refer to her as
"Miss" to this guy, well, I wondered what I just gave away.


"Oh, I see. Miss Diane, hmmm? A package for her? Certainly" he said, the
knowing amusement apparent on his face. "Oh sure, go right up. Apartment
6000."


"Thank you," I said weakly, wondering how many such "deliveries" Miss Diane
got in any one week. I quickly made my way to the elevators while the guard
called ahead. I heard the guard chuckling over the phone as the elevator
doors closed silently behind me. My Timex read 4:52. Great! I was early!


Stepping out of the elevator onto the plush carpeting of the 60th floor, I
walked to what was obviously the corner penthouse. Miss Diane must do well,
I thought to myself as I held my breath and resolutely pressed the brass
encrusted doorbell. I waited...


Minutes passed. I was certain she was in. The guard had a conversation with
someone, didn't he? He wouldn't have let me go up when there was no one at
home, now would he? I pressed the bell again. And waited...


Miss Diane's evil intentions became apparent to me as I glanced at my watch
and saw the sweep hand close on 5:00. I was expected at five and she wasn't
going to answer her door until then. I stood there dumbfounded, incredulous
at her vindictiveness, and waited patiently until exactly 5:00. I held my
breath again and pressed the doorbell. She answered through the door with
an angry, "in an minute." I awaited my fate nervously...


The large oak paneled door slowly opened with a click and I found myself in
the rather unfamiliar (and uncomfortable, I might add) position of standing
in front of Miss Diane. Throughout the time in the store the day before, as
humiliating as it might seem, I was almost constantly on my knees (or, I
thought ruefully, on my back) in front of her. This was a slightly
different perspective and one that, strangely, I didn't feel completely
comfortable with.


"Well, look who's here, the little slaveboy," she said loudly, causing me
to cringe and glance furtively to each side, not wanting any neighbors to
inadvertently hear our conversation. "What do you have for me, hmmm?" she
continued, ignoring my discomfort.


"Uh, Miss Diane, I've brought your new heels. You know, the replacement
pair for the ones you purchased from Miss Bailey's shop yesterday that
were..."


"Shut up. I know what they are." Stepping back from the door, she said,.
"You may place them on the coffee table in the living room." I eased past
her, aware of her lascivious grin as she looked me up and down. While my
back was still to her, I heard the huge door shut securely. The dead bolt
snapped in place. I turned...


In the declining, late afternoon light which streamed through the windows
(of which, oddly, there were very few) and with little help from the black,
tapered candles by the coffee table, I surveyed the enormous wealth of the
apartment (probably, condo, I thought) and ended up staring at the figure
of Miss Diane. I was speechless.


There she stood. As regal and beautiful as I remembered, dressed in a
revealing black leather halter which did nothing to conceal her proud, pert
breasts, and skin tight leather pants that highlighted her every curve,
tightly hugging her slim hips with the help of a wide black leather belt
adorned with chrome studs. Her long legs terminated with her gorgeous feet
(that I seem to have come to know so well), provocatively encased in a pair
of high-heeled black sandals, with tiny straps that embraced her toes, now
wiggling in return of my attentive gaze.


"You seem to like what you see, don't you?" she demanded, interrupting my
reverie.


"Uh, yes, Miss Diane, I mean, uh, no, Miss Diane. Forgive me, I didn't mean
to stare, but..."


"Shut up, you fool" she hissed at me. Strolling slowly to the white leather
couch against the far wall of the living room, she admired herself in the
antique, gold-flecked mirror, turned and sat, sinking deep into the plush
material, never taking her eyes off me. Confidently lighting a long
Virginia Slim cigarette, she sighed impatiently, "So, bring me my new pair
of heels, slaveboy, and step on it. They better be right this time, or so
help me..."


I darted back to the coffee table and quickly brought my package to Miss
Diane, instinctively dropping to my knees as I neared her feet. I proudly
lifted the cover of the box to reveal new, size seven, red, open-toed
heels. I noticed that her nail polish was the same as she had worn
yesterday. On closer inspection, I further noticed that they were freshly
done. By whom, I wondered?


"I threw the other pair out of my boyfriend's car last night, so don't even
think about replacing these with that pair" she said, short-circuiting a
potential plan of mine. "Do you have any idea how much these heels cost,
hmmm?" she inquired angrily, as if it made any difference to her. "Well,
I'll tell you. $411 plus tax. That's right, stupid, and you tried to foist
off the incorrect size on me. $411. Actually $432.35 with tax is what they
cost. A rather small price, considering my feet, though, wouldn't you say?"
she said softly, glancing down and admiring her feet and returning to her
seductive mood of yesterday. I hoped that her anger was sated. I was
wrong...


"Remove my sandal!" Miss Diane demanded, suddenly lifting her long leg and
placing the soiled sole of her sandal directly upon my tie immediately
under my chin, all the while exhaling a long drag of smoke in my face. My
hands trembled as I obediently undid the laces which that embraced her
pretty foot. Delicately cradling her calf, it slipped off effortlessly in
my hands.


"Now. Each of my feet will expect an apology, slaveboy. That's it, come on,
kiss them nicely and tell them what a stupid fucking dummy you are" she
spat, her light blue eyes twinkling with evil. "Come on, my little toes
suffered last night because of you, so you better get started making them
happy." She eyed me mischievously and threatened, "You do know what will
happen if I'm not a satisfied customer, don't you? Well then, you're not
going to get off the hook that easily. Lets get started!"


My pride completely shattered from yesterday's experience, I dutifully
lowered my face and placed my lips against the warmth of her smooth, pearly
white toes and kissed each of them tenderly. "I'm, uh, sorry I'm such a,
uh, stupid fucking dummy" I whispered into her smooth skin, as my tongue
reacquainted itself with the taste and scent of her toes. My penance
continued for long minutes...


"Good. Now the other. And, louder this time, too. I think the neighbors
should know about you, don't you think? This time, let me see you remove
the strap with your teeth. I need a few laughs."


Bending low and catching the end of the strap in between my front teeth, I
tugged and maneuvered so as to free in from the clasp. After several
unsuccessful attempts, it snapped loose and I again cradled her calf as I
proceeded to carefully remove her remaining heel.


"Stop. Use your mouth to remove it!" she commanded. After thinking a
moment, my lips closed about the stiletto heel and I tugged, finding it not
too difficult to slip it off her dainty foot. But, Miss Diane had to make
me squirm just a little more and flexed her toes, holding the heel firmly
against her foot. "Come on. What's the problem,?" she teased. "I don't have
all night, you know."


I set about my task for long minutes before she finally relaxed her toes
and let the heel dangle from my mouth. She giggled appreciatively at the
sight until she bobbed her toes in my face. "Come on. Do it!" she ordered.
I repeated the chore and the apology. She seemed ready to spare me any
further discomfort and was about to allow me to leave.


"Before you go, get me a drink, would you, slaveboy!" she ordered, clearly
not intending it as a question. "Scotch, neat, thank you. The bar is
against the other wall. Maybe then, all will be forgiven."


Freedom was in sight! I hurriedly prepared her cocktail and delivered it
in, what I would imagine, was her favorite slave fashion. That is, on my
knees...


"Leave me" was simply all Miss Diane said in an effort to dismiss me from
her home. As I raced to the door and clasped the knob, however, my dreams
of escape were soon dashed...


"Slaveboy?" she called from across the room. "Something just occurred to
me," she said, a hint of mischief in her voice.


"Yes, Miss Diane?" I readily responded, a little more confident now but
losing it quickly.


She dangled the new red pump on one finger before her. "Yes. Slaveboy, or
should I say 'toilet slave', it occurs to me that you haven't paid for
these new heels, have you?"


"Uh, no, Miss Diane, I was going to..."


"Oh, I see, so you admit they're not paid for. Did you not just give them
to me as replacements for the stupid mistake you made yesterday?"', she
continued to probe, more in earnest now. What I thought was initially
mischief was now suddenly replaced with an unmistakable viciousness.


"Yes ma'am, uh, Miss Diane, I did" I responded, wondering where she was
going with this line of questioning.


"Well, then it's apparent to me that you stole these heels, now didn't
you?"


"Oh no, I didn't steal them, I was going to..."


"Shut up. I'll tell you when to explain yourself. Did you pay for them or
not, hmmm? $432 dollars, to be exact. Well, did you?"


"Well, uh, no, I guess I didn't. Uh, not exactly, anyway" I stammered. I
couldn't believe that, after all I've been through and all she made me do,
she was going to be a royal bitch about it.


"Well, uh, no, he guesses he didn't. Duh" she paraphrased and mocked
viciously. "Well now, it seems we have a little case of theft here now,
doesn't it?" Placing a finger mockingly in her dimple, she mused aloud,
"What to do, what to do? What should I do with this little thief, I
wonder?"


"Miss Diane, I plan on paying it off with my first few paychecks. Honest to
god!"


"Oh shut up! Tell that to your little Miss Bailey. And just how do you
think she's going to react, you handing out her merchandise for free.
Hmmm?"


It was at that point, I realized that I might actually be in trouble. Under
normal circumstances and with normal, reasonable people, what I did could
probably be explained. My worse crime might be an overzealousness, mixed,
perhaps, with a little naivete and stupidity. Nothing worse, to be sure.
But, with these vicious, spiteful slut bitches, it could be an entirely
different story. Miss Diane leaned toward the phone, draping her long
fingers across the handpiece.


"Tell me, slaveboy. Should I call Miss Bailey first? And, then the cops?
Or, perhaps, the cops, then Miss Bailey? Hmmm? What do you think? And, I
distinctly remember Missy referring to a couple of your prior arrests, too.
Hmmm, too bad. You know how cops like to throw away the key on hardened
criminals like you, don't you?"


I stood there, dumbfounded, not believing she was going to pursue this
spitefulness. After all, it was all a favor for her. How did she learn
about my priors, and why was she doing this to me, I wondered?


"I'm waiting, slaveboy" she continued, rising from the couch and balancing
provocatively on her small right foot while tapping her left against the
soft wool of the carpet. "What do you think I should do with you, hmmmm?"
She turned and again admired herself in the mirror while she continued,
"You might just like a little time in prison, you know. Kinda cool down a
bit, know what I mean? Maybe meet some real nice guys. Even date 'em, if
you'd like. Oh yes, I think you'll love it there! Why, with the time you'll
get, you may be able to enjoy some real long term relationships, don't you
think?"


I was beginning to panic. I honestly think that these vicious sluts would
send me up the river for taking a pair of heels from the shop. One to press
charges, the other to testify. All the while, enjoying themselves
immensely. What was I going to do? If I just stormed out, they have my
address. Christ, Miss Bailey even has my drivers license number and a copy
of my birth certificate. If they wanted to pursue this, they could, I
realized bleakly. But would they? Should I risk it?


Somewhere in my reverie, I decided to do whatever it would take to get out
from under this. If it meant a bed of nails, so be it. A third offence
would really put me in hot water, no matter how small. Three time losers
got nailed, it's as simple as that. I chose to do her bidding, that is, if
she'd have me.


Turning suddenly and dropping to my knees across the room, I implored Miss
Diane, "Please, please, Miss Diane, don't tell on me! Please! I'll do
anything for you! Honestly! Absolutely anything you request! Anything you
want! It can be anything at all! I promise! Please don't call Miss Bailey
or the cops! Please! I'll do anything!" Tears began to well in my eyes as I
began to ponder the next three years or so behind bars.


"There, there, there" she cooed softly, grinning broadly and strolling to
within inches of me, her hand delicately tracing a line across my furrowed
brow. I remained on my knees, not moving an inch. Hoping she had changed
her mind...


"Anything I want, did you say?" she repeated evilly, lowering her head to
meet my eyes head-on. "Anything at all is what you said, now isn't it?"
Miss Diane said, seemingly lost in thought. "Yes" I insisted again and
again. "Anything you want. I promise to do anything." I wasn't sure where
this conversation would go, but I was becoming very desperate.


"Hmmmm... an interesting proposition. I don't know, though. We really
shouldn't have criminals like you on the street. And, besides, Missy's one
of my best friends, so, I really think I should call..."


"Oh no, please, Miss Diane. I really mean it. I'll do anything you ask of
me. Anything. Just don't call the cops. And, I promise to pay Miss Bailey
back every cent when I get the money..." I was clearly frozen with fear and
babbling like a fool at this point.


"So, you promise to pay Missy back? All $432? And, you promise to do
anything that I want you to do? Is that your offer?" she asked insolently,
pacing about my kneeling form with her hands clasped behind her hack, lost
deep in thought and carefully lighting another cigarette.


"Yes, Miss Diane, I would be forever in your debt if you wouldn't turn me
in" I cried.


"Hmmmm... let me think.... Just what could I have you do that you haven't
done already? And, rather well too, I might add. Granted, those services
are part of your job and all, but...hmmmm...." she droned on and on, still
thinking, still pacing around the room, the insolently thin Virginia Slim
dangling from her fingers. "Any ideas, hmmm?" she looked up and asked.


"Uh, no, Miss Diane, just that I would agree to do anything, if that's what
you wanted. Really, I would agree to do anything for you and you might just
enjoy it, who knows?"


"Don't get cocky with me, asshole" she sneered, exhaling volumes of smoke
toward the ceiling. "What I enjoy or don't enjoy is none, I repeat, none,
of your fucking business!"


"Sorry. I'm sorry...."


"Just shut up and let me think..."


Somehow, I sensed she knew what I was in for all along...



Chapter Five...


After what seemed like an eternity kneeling on the living room carpet, Miss
Diane suddenly snapped in my direction, "Ok, we'll see. Crawl to my den at
the end of the hall. Come on, hurry!"


Salvation was in sight! Surely, her den wouldn't contain an iron maiden,
now would it? Or, a rack? A bed of nails? No, I thought I'd be relatively
safe and on my way out of a very tricky situation. I scooted down the
darkened hall to the door of Miss Diane's "den" and waiting patiently.


She reached around me and opened the door, disclosing a room which was
quite stark, yet another contrast from the rest of the apartment. The walls
were painted black, with a high ceiling, slowly flashing strobes and black
lights highlighting art pieces scattered half-hazardly about the room. Just
about the only piece of furniture in the room, an old, well-used mattress,
lay in the center of the floor. A high-backed wing chair, flanked by a
matching footstool, each upholstered in a deep velvet burgundy, were the
only other amenities in the room. This was clearly Miss Diane's playhouse,
I thought. I wondered what was about to happen. What would she have me do?


Miss Diane reassumed her sitting position in the comfortable chair and
rested her legs on the footstool, her bare feet dangling over the edge,
bobbing back and forth in front of me. Her arm was crooked, her hand
dangling yet another Virginia Slim as she delicately rested her chin in her
other palm as she spoke, "Welcome to my playhouse. You may begin by licking
my feet to relax me while I explain how I want to use you. Understand? In
fact, I want you to get used to the fact that, in here, your sole purpose
is to worship me."


I scurried over to her feet and began raining very sincere kisses of
worship and gratitude across her toes, insteps, soles and heels. Kisses
that were soon replaced by a ravenous tongue, lapping sloppily at her feet,
trying to pleasure her and assure her that she made the right decision.


"Good slave. That's a very good slave" she murmured, clearly satisfied with
my heartfelt efforts. She enjoyed herself for several minutes before
continuing, "Well, no point in beating around the bush. You said you'd
agree to do anything, so here it is. Remember step three, hmmm? Well, step
three is what you do when you perform the ultimate feat of a toilet slave,
got it?"


"The ultimate feat of a toilet slave"??" Uh oh... Although, I didn't
exactly anticipate this, I guess, after yesterday (especially with Miss
Bailey that afternoon), I figured out what it was and rather expected this
"request" sooner or later. But, even then, I knew I could refuse. Just get
up and leave. But, this was a completely different matter. The filthy chore
was being presented to me far sooner that I expected and there was nothing
I could do but obey. It was either this or prison, I thought. I paused at
her feet.


I spoke with the tartness of her toes on my tongue. "Yes, Miss Diane, I
think I got it, but I'm not quite sure what you expect me to do." I
responded honestly, not quite sure what lay ahead for me. "What does it
really mean?"


"What step three really means, dumb fuck, is that we have you eat my shit!"
she grinned broadly and shouted triumphantly. She knew she had me trapped,
that there was no other way out. She finally had me where she wanted me
now, and she waited for my reaction. "What do you think of that, hmmm,
toilet slave?"


"I don't know what to think, Miss Diane, I've never done anything like this
before (a little white lie, what with my experience yesterday with Miss
Bailey) and I really don't know what to do."


"Too bad, but I'm sure even you'll be able to figure it out eventually" she
laughed again. At least, I hope so for your sake, ha ha!" She got serious
for a moment and said, "And I think we might find a way to make this a
little easier for me, and perhaps, a little tastier for you, what do you
think?"


Committed now, I answered truthfully, still fervently lapping at her soft
feet, "I'll do anything you wish, Miss Diane. Anything." My initial fears
were replaced by a growing expectation, a sinister curiosity, about what I
was being commanded to do. I was discovering that with this physical
surrender came an overwhelming sense of sexual excitement. The complete
degradation of the act was having a profound effect on my cock, now
protruding lewdly from the front of my pants.


"Good" Miss Diane responded coyly, ignoring my rock hard prick. "Then,
let's begin, shall we?"



Chapter Six...


Miss Diane rose suddenly from the wing-backed chair, nearly ripping her
toes from my mouth. She appeared intent on having me perform this little
act for her and she didn't wish to dally and have anyone change their mind,
jail or no jail. She reached behind her back and unfastened her top,
letting the leather halter fall upon the floor with a faint plop. Her
beautiful breasts, with proud, firm nipples, were now free to proudly sway
side to side. My eyes widened in appreciation.


Turning her back to me, she unfastened her studded belt, leaned forward
just slightly and began to tug on the tight fitting leather of her slacks.
Even in the darkened, UV-highlighted room, the soft white flesh of her
shapely ass contrasted sharply to the dead black of the leather pants as
she slowly tugged them down her long legs. Despite what I was sure I must
do, I couldn't help but admire her beauty. Miss Diane was completely naked
now and an incredible beauty to behold. As she turned to face me, she
placed two small, hard candies in my hand, smiled wickedly and said, "These
might make it a little easier for me to get started, and they'll certainly
make it a little tastier for you, toilet slave" she sneered into my face,
as if her viciousness was designed to be part of my complete domination,
and...degradation. I took the candies from her outstretched hand; they were
purple. Grape.


"Let's begin like this" she said coolly, as she proceeded to turn and kneel
on the wing backed chair, her magnificent ass protruding out to within
inches of my face. She waved it provocatively in front of me, encouraging
me to begin. "Well? Let's get on with it! Do I have to tell you
everything?" she said with an exasperated sigh. "Put the candy in your
mouth, stupid. Then I want you to place your mouth against my asshole and
push with your tongue. You'll know if you did it right because I'll have
the candy and you won't!" she snickered.


My face reddened further as my lips came in direct contact with the warm,
smooth ring of flesh around her anus. Inhaling, I was filled with Miss
Diane's incredible scent and reminded briefly of the activities yesterday.
My tongue began its work of pushing the hard candy up into Miss Diane's
asshole. After several attempts, not helped by the swaying of her ass (she
seemed to want to make it more difficult for me), I was successful in
pushing the candy in to the point where it suddenly disappeared deep inside
her.


"Good slave!', she cooed, looking over her shoulder. "Wasn't that fun? Now
the other. Come on, I want you to go after two during your big moment!" she
laughed. "Or, should I say, "movement"??" Ha ha ha...!" she threw in
flippantly, with no regard for my traumatized feelings.


Puckering again and placing my lips against her ass, now slightly sticky
with the previous candy, my tongue returned to entertaining her. My face
dutifully followed the sway of her ass until my tongue was successful in
placing it deep inside her, right next to its purple companion. I licked
around her pretty pink rosebud, barely visible in the dark of the room,
cleansing it of the sweet candy goo. Miss Diane murmured in appreciation at
my tongue's handiwork.


"Now then, toilet slave, ready to get your candy back? Hmmmm? Are you?" she
demanded to know. She'll never be quite through with my humiliation, I
thought.


"Yes, Miss Diane, I 'm ready" I mumbled into the sweet, warm fragrance of
her ass. As ready as I can be, I thought to myself.


"Good!" she encouraged. "Then, just stay like that and let's see what
happens, shall we?" she said in a tone that implied that she would never,
ever, accept my refusal to serve her this way.


I waited. My face was pressed against the crack of her ass (even whiter, I
thought, than the pure white of her asscheeks), my mouth encircling her
anus. As I felt her push from time to time, I flicked little licks across
her little ring of muscle. I knew innately that encouraging her this way
degraded me even more completely, if that was possible. She passed a
soundless fart that blew softly against my lips and filled my senses,
driving me crazy with passion. A few drops of her piss trickled against the
material of her throne...


"You'll clean that up. Don't forget..."


Straining again, her anus blossomed in my mouth and the first of the hard
candies, slowly at first, then with more speed, shot quickly into my mouth.
She giggled in triumph, "There's the first, toilet slave, like it better
this time around?" she asked, her head lolling over the back of the chair,
eyes cast on the floor. "Eat it up!"


I crunched down upon the candy and swallowed quickly, pressing my lips back
against her ass and waited obediently for the second. It came quickly, much
like the first, but covered in a thick coating of her shit and lay
motionless on my tongue. "There's the second, don't they taste great? Hmmm?
Eat it up like a good boy. Oh, and clean up after yourself.


I bit through the hard candy and found my mouth filled with the sweetness
of the candy and the bitter earthiness of her shit. I swallowed as I was
told.


"Mmmmm... good slave!" she said approvingly. "Now, clean me up!" she
ordered again. For a moment, I thought this was the end of the experience
and began to breathe freely again, much of my initial nervousness fading. I
was so wrong... "Now. That's was a fairly good beginning. Got you used to
it a little, I hope." Standing again and marching over to the mattress, she
ordered me to lie on my back while she straddled my face and lowered
herself quickly into position. I recalled yesterday.


"You know what time it is now, don't you?" she asked. "Time for your happy
meal, toilet slave, that's what time it is!" again, never even considering
my refusal. I was thrilled when she leaned forward and began to fondle my
cock when, suddenly, I perceived a rough hemp twine close upon my swollen
balls. She tugged playfully. "Just in case you have any thoughts of not
fulfilling your part of the bargain. I'm sure you don't want to have your
balls ripped off your body do you?" she crowed, tugging again on the rough
twine and causing my hips to rise, trying to ease the pain and pressure.
"Well?"


"Mmmpphhhh" I tried to answer, my face buried in her ass. There was no
turning back now and I opened my mouth around her anus, my tongue again
flicking at her hole.


"Good boy. And so very obedient. One day I'll Now, just open your mouth and
leave your head right there" she ordered again. In the ensuing silence, I
awaited my fate.


Time dragged and my mouth was pressed open, waiting... Miss Diane tugged
occasionally at the twine, readying me for my dinner of degradation.


As my tongue braved the depths of her ass, I felt it meet a warm, semi-hard
mass that was obviously intent on passing its way into my mouth. Almost
guiding its release with my tongue, I withdrew slowly and opened my mouth
even wider, knowing that all my questions would soon be answered. The twine
knotted around my balls tightened as I removed my tongue completely.


Almost instantly, my lips involuntarily closed around the first turd that
was passing silently into my mouth. "Here it comes!" Miss Diane cried
gleefully. "Now is your big chance to really impress me!" The warm mass of
shit scraped past my front teeth and rested momentarily on my tongue.
"Ahhhh.... There! Eat it up! Come on, there's more to come, so hurry!"


Panicking, I began to turn from side to side, suddenly repulsed with what I
was being forced to do. The twine was again yanked and I moaned through her
hard turd and into her ass. I began to chew obediently. Closing my eyes
against the rising tears of my shame, I choked and started swallowing
repeatedly.


No sooner had I finished with what I thought would be my last swallow than
another warm turd quickly took its place and began forcing its way into my
mouth. Pressing heavily against my tongue and approaching the back of my
throat, I fought the rising panic and began to chew again...and swallowed
dutifully.


I found myself surrendering completely. Time lost meaning as I was held in
this position, unsure, still now, of how much of Miss Diane's shit I was
forced to eat. After what seemed like hours of constant humiliation and
degradation, combined with the taste and smell of her shit, Miss Diane
eventually relaxed the tight grip of the twine. "Mmmmmmm..... that was a
first for you, wasn't it, slaveboy? Well, you did very well for a beginner.
I think we can make you a star" she added, laughing to the room. "Phew, do
you really like that smell? I can't hear you! Louder!" she laughed again,
fully aware that I was speechless under the weight of her dirty ass. "Now,
clean me up the way you cleaned up Missy yesterday. Come on, do it!"


My filthy tongue now busied itself with the task of cleaning this bitch's
ass. Even under these strange circumstances, though, the remark about Miss
Bailey wasn't lost on me. Miss Diane had clearly implied that she and Miss
Bailey discussed what went on yesterday afternoon. And, for as much as I
knew, they were both involved in this predicament of mine.


The taste and smell of her shit rocketed through my head and implanted
itself forever in my memory. I was her slave for life, I thought. Her
toilet slave. With this total surrender, Miss Diane controlled by body and
my soul. I continued my chore.


Easing back, obviously delighted with my work and finally secure that her
asshole sparkled with my saliva, she wordlessly began to relieve herself
directly into my mouth. "A girl's gotta piss after something like that, and
your mouth is so handy!" she giggled. "After all that shit, you probably
want something to wash it down, haha!" With that, she grew silent, paused
and emptied the remainder of her bladder with ease, directly into my
waiting mouth. I gulped obediently.


Rising, she looked down again at my shit-smeared face, shook her head
disgustingly and said, "Tthe showers over there, pig, use it! Oh, and brush
your teeth. You'll know which brush, it's marked "t.s." on the handle. Use
it. After this little treat, I'll expect a little head, quite a little, I
would think. So hurry up!" she added with a lustful gleam in her eye.


Bending low to pick up her bra and slacks, draping them over her arm, she
turned for one last look. "Talk about women's liberation, huh?" she
grinned, speaking to no one in particular but clearly meant to abuse me
even further. "Gloria Steinem, eat your heart out!" She shook her head from
side to side and burst into loud peals of triumphant laughter as she
sallied out of the room. I heard her prepare herself another cocktail.


Even now, buried within my mountain of humiliation and depravity, I
pictured myself crawling over to Miss Diane, resting comfortably on her
white couch, her silky legs spread wide and waiting for my tongue.


"I'll be just a few moments, Miss Diane..."


                                   The End